The Frog Prince (Timeless Fairy Tales #9)

Ariane raised her eyes to the ceiling. He has no tact—unless he decides he wishes to be charming. “I was cleaning.”

“Why were you cleaning?”

The slight sneer in his words made Ariane want to snarl back at him, but she kept her tone pleasant. “Perhaps because I am a maid?” she suggested.

Lucien croaked. “If Kozlovka had maids like you, Emperor Yevgeniy would have been hen-pecked into moving on Sorcerer Rothbart, regardless of the possible folly.”

“Folly?” Ariane asked.

“It would be truly foolish to face a sorcerer who has seemingly mastered various dark arts without help from other mages.” He stared at Ariane for several more moments—awaiting a reply—but Ariane could only blink in surprise. Dimly, she heard Prince Severin rumble in the background.

“Kozlovka does indeed need help,” he said. “I acknowledge Baris’s strength and bravery, but the entire central government of Sole is shut down due to a curse cast by one rogue magic user. We must proceed with caution.”

When it became apparent she wasn’t going to reply to his jab, Lucien returned to playing with his water. Ariane, however, mused over his response.

He’s listening. Even if Lucien appeared to be disinterested, he was clearly still listening, or he wouldn’t have known about Rothbart. Moreover, his comment proved to Ariane that despite his idiotic words, Prince Lucien was just as smart as his brother. For Lucien had called out the dangers of attacking Rothbart before Prince Severin had a chance to mention it. So he doesn’t completely rely on his brother—or at least he wouldn’t have to. Is his arrogant, alcoholic prince persona just an act? The idea seemed overly optimistic to Ariane, but in her heart of hearts she wondered…



Ariane was still pondering the matter when the evening came and the representatives were all released to freshen up for dinner. Lucien, unlike the rest of the guests, had no need to change, so instead he ordered Ariane to take him to Severin’s immense gardens.

He spent the time hopping around, grumbling under his breath, but Ariane was amused to see he made a point of inspecting several of the beds.

“Completely taken with his stupid flowers,” the prince grumbled as he stared at a rather impressive lilac bush that was budding early. “I thought Elle would keep him from turning into a farmer, but instead she encourages it! He needs children. They need children. It will give them someone else to lecture.”

Ariane cleared her throat to cover the chuckle that almost escaped, then made a show of peering around the garden.

They were in a large, open courtyard that boasted cobblestone pathways and some impressive flower bushes. Guards were posted at the four entry points to the courtyard, but the area was so big, Ariane wasn’t sure she could have thrown a rock and hit one of them.

Lucien moved from the lilac bush up to a rose bush that was just starting to grow buds. “I swear, one of his gardeners must have magic. Everything grows out of season here.” He dolefully eyed the large shovel and spade placed next to the rose bush as if they were magical tools.

Whether he’s smart or stupid, the rumors that he dotes on Severin are true—though Severin is still a saint to suffer through his particular brand of love.

“I need wine,” Lucien announced.

“Her Highness ordered you to be cut off after an entire bottle of wine mysteriously went missing at lunch time,” Ariane reminded him.

“She can’t tell me what to do,” Lucien declared. “I’ll drink what I want.”

“I disagree,” Ariane said. “I believe as long as you are a guest—and a frog—you truly are at her mercy.”

“Did I ask for your opinion, Mademoiselle Cleanliness? No, I did not!” Prince Lucien hopped a few feet away. “So you can—”

The prince was unable to finish his sentence as a black snake with a red belly struck. It lunged from the leafy shade of the rose bush and had its mouth closed around Lucien before Ariane could scream.

“No!” she shouted. She heard clattering—most likely the guards—and her heart pounded in her throat as the snake struggled to swallow the crown prince.

I have to do something! Ariane snatched up the gardening shovel, smashing it into the snake’s body. It hissed and jerked, but it couldn’t bite her as Lucien’s fat frog body still filled its mouth.

If I hit it on the head, I might kill Lucien, too! Ariane raised the shovel above her head and struck the snake in the body again.

She drew blood, and the snake thrashed, and Ariane could hear Lucien’s muffled voice. “You are going to spit me out, you despicable creature!” Moments after, his head popped out of the snake’s mouth, though half his body was still in its jaws. “I will not be eaten! Particularly not without a good wine to accompany me!”

Lucien’s complaint assured Ariane he wasn’t dying, so she tried to hit the snake again—though this time she missed.

The snake, with Lucien bulging from its mouth and Ariane still trying to hit it, began to slither towards the thick lilac bushes.

“Step back!” a soldier shouted.

Ariane darted backwards, her palms turning clammy.

One of the soldiers threw a dagger that pierced the snake’s body and nailed it to the ground, stopping its departure.

“You. Will. Not. Eat. Me!” Lucien stubbornly repeated. He had hefted most of his body out of the snake’s mouth, but the creature bit down on his legs and held him dangling.

“Prince!” Ariane shouted, this time gripping her shovel like a pike.

The soldiers skid between Ariane and the snake with their swords drawn. In the blink of an eye, they beheaded the beast and pulled Lucien away from the creature.

“Here, take him.” One soldier held Lucien out to Ariane, who hesitated for a moment before scooping him up in her arms.

Two of the soldiers moved to stand by Ariane and Lucien—their swords still out as they eyed the beautiful gardens with new suspicion.

The remaining two poked at the snake’s body with their swords.

“I’ve never seen a snake with this color pattern,” said a tall soldier with constantly narrowed eyes. He flipped the snake over, pointing out the strange, black-gray pattern Ariane hadn’t initially seen as it blended in so well with the snake’s black back.

“Send word to Prince Severin,” ordered one of the soldiers who hovered over Ariane and Lucien.

“You think this was another assassination attempt?” Lucien asked.

“I’m afraid so, Your Highness.”

Ariane glanced down at the transformed prince, wondering how he would take the news. He was quiet, though he blinked and tucked his front legs over Ariane’s, making her shiver a little at the slimy feeling of his skin.

“I beg your pardon, Your Highness,” said the soldier who wanted to call for Prince Severin. “But I believe it would be for the best if you returned indoors.”

“Of course.” Lucien’s voice was airy and care-free, though after her experience with him at that morning’s meeting, Ariane was willing to bet he was deep in thought.